Junk In, Junk Out

The introduction of computerized displays (also known as “glass panels”, or in the FAA’s parlance, Technologically Advanced Aircraft or “TAA”) into general aviation cockpits can mean serious consequences for those unprepared to deal with the complexities involved.

Sure, there’s a lot of power and capability present in those computers. They can provide you with wind speed and direction, beautiful color moving maps, an entire continent worth of aeronautical data, and so much more. Terrain databases, traffic alerts, sophisticated autopilots, GPS roll steering, highway-in-the-sky, and so much more. Things we probably haven’t even though of yet.

Amazing stuff. Of course, it can be a bit daunting for those who haven’t reached a particular skill level with the glass. Information overload is common, even in experienced pilots. I see this a lot in the latest generation of G1000 panels; there is so much information on the Primary Flight Display that it can get overwhelming.

As always, the weakest link in the cockpit is usually the guy flying the plane. One thing pilots of all experience levels have to watch for is what I call the “junk in, junk out” syndrome. The computers will do exactly what you tell them to do. If, for example, you input SLI as a waypoint and aren’t careful, you can end up going to South American instead of Seal Beach, because there is an identically named navaid on that continent. All it takes is a wrong button push and poof!, you’re on your way.

This kind of thing is common with intersections because they use five letters. Key in DRIFT instead of DRIFY and you’ll end up east of Philadelphia instead of south of Long Beach, CA.

I’ve done this several times myself. The only way to prevent it is to double check that the courses and distances make sense.

Computers have the ability to smooth and simplify our lives. They also have the ability to cause major problems. Anyone who has ever cc:’d an email to the wrong person(s) can tell you about that.

In aviation, they can cause funny things to happen even outside the cockpit. Here’s one such example: a friend of mine runs a well-known aviation weather site, and his system choked on an odd identifier. Turns out someone at the FAA cut-and-paste into the wrong window, and his laundry list of personal tasks ended up in the FAA’s international NOTAM system.

You’ve gotta see this NOTAM that popped up a couple of weeks ago, and it just tripped up our decoder today…

This is for ICAO identifier “MIKE” — which as far as I can tell is just a guy named Mike!! :-)

Wish this was just a joke, but it’s actually in the FAA’s international NOTAM system!!!!!

0014/09 – 0014 NOTAMR 0009 0013 A) MIKE PART 1 OF 2 B) WIE C) UFN E)

THINGS TO DO LIST IN NOVEMBER 2009 AT:
1607 JAMES ISLAND AVE., N.M.B.
BRING: MESUREMENTS OF: OUR BEDROOM SET, ETC.
TURN ON THE HEAT VICE A/C.
MASTER BATHROOM/KITCHEN PAINT: CLOSET/WINDOW MOULDING.

I OWE JOE/JOE FOR PALM FERTILIZER/TRIMMING, IF DONE??
BUY: GRILL, PRESSURE WASHER AT LOWE’S (NMB), NEXT SPRING (2010).
10 AZALEAS, OR FLOWERS (NMB), NEXT SPRING (2010).
CURTAIN ROD FOR UP-STAIRS BATHROOM??

TO DO: ME, HANDY-ANDY, PAINTER??
STAIN/OR WAX BANNISTER?
SPARE BEDROOM: PAINT INSIDE TRIM IN CLOSET.
CLEAN UP THE PLANT IN THE GARAGE, NEXT SPRING (2010).
FERTILIZE LAWN/PLANTS, NEXT SPRING (2010).
HANDY ANDY, NEXT SPRING (2010).

(ED) CAULK/PAINT OUTSIDE WHERE NEEDED.
INSTALL SHELVING IN ALL UPSTAIRS CLOSETS.
RE-HANG BALCONY DOOR LIGHT FIXTURES.
LAUNDRY ROOM: INSTALL CABINET/SHELF ABOVE.
CLEAN OUT THE GARAGE DOORS: BRAD/BRADY, CHRIS DOORMAN.

(AUGUST 09)
CALL EXTERMINATOR FOR APPMT: 843-365-5120 (CONWAY PEST CONTROL)
CALL A/C TECHNICAN FOR SEPT. CK ON HEAT PUMPS, NEXT SPRING (2010).

You’ve gotta admire the guy’s level of organization. His home sounds lovely. Now if he could just do something about those “fat fingers”…

4 Comments

Ron, November 20th 2009 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Aviation, Humor, IFR

Are Needle, Ball, and Airspeed Obsolete?

With the advent of the Glass Age, I’ve been seeing more and more pilots question the need for traditional needle/ball/airspeed instrument skills. Why bother to learn the technology of yesterday, they ask?

On the surface, this question makes sense. After all, who even manufactures aircraft with non-glass panels anymore? Heck, even the venerable Legend Cub is being built with a Dynon D10A these days. At my home field, we have a Waco UPF-7 (a 1930′s era open-cockpit biplane) with a Garmin glass panel. It looks more like you’re sitting on the bridge of the starship Enterprise than in a barnstormer ready to dust crops.

There’s no doubt that glass panels have fewer insidious failure modes than analog instruments. Instead of an attitude indicator that slowly rolls over (possibly taking the pilot with it), you get a giant red “X” leaving no doubt about the quality of the AHRS data.

And, lest we forget, many of the pilots who balk at an six-pack instrument panel probably don’t see one that often. They fly newer airframes, experimentals, turbines, and read industry publications that rarely even show a non-glass instrument panel. Out of sight, out of mind. So the question is a good one, but my answer may surprise you.

In my opinion, the traditional analog instruments are not obsolete, if only by virtue of the fact that out of the 200,000+ GA aircraft in existence, probably 90% of them have the older style panel. These airplanes are mostly certificated in the Normal category, and it would be neither cost effective or legally possible to put newer style instrument panels into those aircraft at the present time.

Of course, if you have an RV-X and only plan on flying that airplane and it’s got glass and you can fly it proficiently (including partial-panel, whatever that may look like in your ship), then there is no need to be able to fly with a turn coordinator, altimeter, and airspeed indicator.

On the other hand, when I train students to fly IFR in glass airplanes like the SR22 and Columbia, I ensure they can fly a traditional six pack as well via simulator training. There are several reasons for this:

  • I want them to be a complete instrument pilot able to fly more than just an Avidyne or G1000
  • Second, I want them to understand the way analog instruments work since there are analog instruments even in those glass aircraft, and they have different failure modes and different scans than an AHRS-based system
  • Third, it’s harder to go “back” to analog instruments than it is to go “forward” to glass panels if you’re already a rated and experienced pilot, so I want the heavy lifting to be done while we’re already doing the heavy lifting: during primary instrument training.

I disagree with those who feel instructors are anti-GPS, anti-glass, attached to older technology, or provide unrealistic failure modes for no good reason. I know none who have that attitude. On the other hand, we often turn those devices off or direct a student’s focus elsewhere because it’s necessary for training. If we don’t push your workload to the breaking point, fail instruments and radios, etc. then we’re not doing our job.

Anyone can fly IFR when everything’s working. I’ve seen pilots who aren’t even instrument trained do it. But when you’re on one engine or partial panel in the clouds, a passenger is airsick, you need a bathroom break, the fuel is getting low, it’s night, and you’re tired, that’s not the time to find out how well you perform when stress is high. That’s why we push you hard. If you ever have a bad day and come out the other side in one piece, you’ll understand that.

No Comments

Ron, May 12th 2008 | Tags: , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Aviation, IFR

I Love Days Like This

It’s so rare to get true winter weather here in Southern California. But as Lesley always says, it never fails to rain on opening night, and last night was no exception. Boy did it pour!

I nearly broke into a Gene Kelly-esque dance all the way down Avenue of the Arts as I made my way to OCPAC for the opening night performance of Die Zauberflöte. Ave. of the Arts even has the right kind of street lights for it! But there’s something about the ultra-modern look of the theaters which kept me from indulging myself. (Note: I may also have been concerned about looking stupid, although that’s never stopped me before).

I’ve been making quite a few flights to northern California lately, and this weather has certainly made that part of my day job interesting. I’m not used to seeing low pressure systems around here, but California has been surrounded by them for the past week. Several cold fronts have blown through, bringing lower snow levels and higher concerns about in-flight icing. It’s the one thing that really worries me when flying, and it must be approached with extreme caution. This is especially true in fast composite ships with so-called “laminar flow” airfoils, as contaminating this kind of wing leads to an especially dramatic loss of performance.

The last two round trips have been in a TKS-equipped SR22. Despite low freezing levels and airmets for icing, IFR conditions, mountain obscuration, and turbulence, I was comfortable flying the route because I knew the tops were 10-12,000′. There were plenty of alternate airports nearby, and the deicing fluid was topped off to give me some time to get out of any ice which did build. As it turns out, there was only one bit of ice worth noting, right as I climbed out of the top of a cloud layer. The worst icing is often found at the tops of clouds, so that wasn’t a surprise. For the most part, between ATC and PIREPS I was able to stay out of the precip most of the time when I was above the freezing level.

The TKS system works much better when you prime it properly. The first time I ever tried using TKS, it seemed to be useless. It was a summer flight across the Dakotas a few years ago. No one had ever told me that it can take several minutes for the fluid to make its way to the outboard panels, and by that time the ice could have covered the panels so thoroughly that they’d be unable to protect the wing.

Now, my standard preflight procedure on the system is to top off the TKS tank (the only way you’ll know how much fluid is on board), turn on the pump to ensure it works, and wait for fluid to come out of each panel before turning it off. Then, when you enable the system in flight, you’ll get immediate protection. I’ve standardized on coating the wings and tail surfaces with deice fluid (“normal” setting) before entering precip when it’s below freezing, and using the “maximum” setting at the first sign of ice.

Of course, the airplane is not approved for known-icing, so the TKS is just one tool to buy you time to change altitudes, turn around, find VMC, get to warmer air, or something else which will stop the accumulation.

The worse thing about ice is that it’s unpredictable. We don’t really understand why it occurs in some places and not in others, even when the conditions seem to be ripe for it in both places. It might be light icing for one pilot and severe for another one who flies through the same piece of sky only minutes later.

Pilots hate the unknown more than anything else. We strive for complete control over the flight, and that means being able to predict with certainty every critical aspect of our aircraft’s performance. Ice robs us of that capability. Our climb rates, airspeeds, handling, and other characteristics change. The airplane takes on a new personality, and the only thing you know for sure is that it won’t be as friendly as the one you’re used to.

Whoever said ice belongs in your drink and not on your airplane was right.

On the ground, though, all this rain has been a welcome sight after years of drought here in the Southland. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I hear a Gene Kelly song calling my name…

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Ron, January 24th 2008 | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in Aviation, IFR

RNAV Approach Quiz

From the “you learn something every day” file comes a fascinating Air Safety Foundation quiz on RNAV approaches.

For the non-pilots and/or non-instrument rated among us, RNAV is short for “random area navigation” and for the most part refers to satellite navigation — in other words, GPS. It’s not called GPS because there are other area navigation methods such as loran, omega, inertial navigation, and so on.

But they all do the same basic thing, which is to allow a pilot to fly from any random point in the world to any other point. Prior to RNAV, radio navigation consisted of flying from one ground-based station to another. A highway in the sky, if you will, but one firmly tied to the ground. These ground-based stations are housed in little buildings scattered around the country which transmit signals the aircraft’s navigation receiver can follow. The problem is, these buildings are not movable. They’re expensive to build, maintain, and monitor.

With RNAV, pilots can create virtual waypoints anywhere. RNAV systems therefore have more capability than the older ground-based navaids. If you’ve ever used a GPS, then you’re part of the RNAV revolution.

Of course, there has to be a down-side, right? Nothing is free in aviation, and so it is with RNAV. RNAV systems tend to be computerized and therefore more complex. They also tend to fly in the face of thing we’ve learned about IFR navigation. Curving approach paths, precision approaches without an ILS, etc.

For example, every instrument-rated pilot knows that in order to proceed below the published minimums for an Instrument Approach Procedure, three criteria must be met. In general terms, they are:

  1. The flight visibility must meet the published minimums for that procedure
  2. The aircraft must be in a position from which the pilot can make a normal landing using normal rates of descent
  3. The runway environment (pavement, lights, paint, etc) must be in sight

Aside from an esoteric 100′ rule dealing with a specific part of the approach lighting system, there are no exceptions. Or at least, that’s what I thought until the RNAV quiz taught me about “fly visual” segments.

“Fly visual” segments are typically seen on approaches to airports in mountainous areas. Treat them as red flags: If you see one, take some extra time and give the procedure a closer look.

There are a couple of reasons for this. First, as discussed in the main portion of the course, the visibility required for the approach is sometimes less than the length of the “fly visual” segment-meaning that the pilot can legally continue beyond the DA/MAP without the runway environment in sight, provided he/she has the required flight visibility. Obviously, this leaves a certain amount of room for interpretation. If you find yourself in such a situation, and there’s any doubt about whether to proceed (particularly if you’re not familiar with the local terrain and landmarks), it’s best to opt for the missed approach.

It’s also worth thinking about why the “fly visual” segment exists in the first place. Why did the designers of the approach essentially choose to “slide” the entire approach away from the airport by the distance of the visual segment? In many cases, the underlying reason is that terrain in the missed approach area would necessitate unreasonably high minimums if the MAP were in its normal position. By displacing the MAP a few miles, the designers can build a missed approach segment that doesn’t have terrain problems (a situation well illustrated by the NDB/DME or GPS-A approach at Hailey, Idaho).

Of course, the terrain is still out there, and the danger for pilots flying such procedures is that the unanticipated need to initiate a missed approach beyond the MAP can lead to obstruction conflicts (or, to put it more bluntly: a collision with a mountain).

The bottom line? For procedures like the one at Hailey, never continue the approach past the MAP unless there’s absolutely no doubt about the outcome.

Sounds like fun. Not! Imagine having 1/2 mile visibility and coming to the end of your RNAV highway in the sky, yet being permitted to continue flying visually without the having the airport in sight. TLAR (“that looks about right”) navigation at its best.

The scary thing about these approaches is that they occur in mountainous areas. By definition, these areas having high density altitudes in the summer and are prone to icing in the winter. A mountainous approach is one time I would want to start my missed approach segment earlier rather than later in order to assure adequate terrain clearance during the climb.

The RNAV Approach Quiz is free, and it was far more informative than I had anticipated. Normally I breeze through these things with nary a thought, but I really had to stop and think about some of the questions. And I must admit there were some things in there I didn’t know.

1 Comment

Ron, December 9th 2007 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in Aviation, GPS, IFR

Problems at Socal Approach

What on earth is going on at Socal Approach these days? It seems every time I fly, they find a new way to confuse, infuriate, or disappoint me. Sometimes all three.

It really pains me to say that, because my cousin was an air traffic controller and I have the utmost respect for ATC. Hell, when I was a kid, I used to hang out at Anchorage Center’s facility on Elmendorf AFB. It’s not easy controlling traffic in the Los Angeles area. They are beset with personnel shortages, a plethora of trainees, a dysfunctional relationship with FAA management, and high levels of traffic.

I try to help them out as much as possible. Speaking clearly, eliminating excess verbiage, being patient when they’re busy. But a guy can only take so much, and in my experience Socal makes more mistakes now than they ever have.

Just the other day I launched out of SNA on an instrument flight plan. My clearance was to depart the airport and fly heading 220 for radar vectors to the Seal Beach VORTAC. This is the standard boilerplate clearance when departing John Wayne Airport under IFR, and something I’ve done a thousand times.

I’m not two miles from the field before they start yelling at me for not following the Orange departure. This is a head scratcher, because the Orange departure is a VFR procedure.

As soon as I explained that I was IFR, not VFR, I received five different squawk codes in the space of 4 minutes. As if this wasn’t enough, I was then handed off to Los Angeles Center while at 2000 feet MSL and less than 10 miles from the airport!

I am not making this up.

I questioned the handoff and got yelled at for doing so. OK, I shouldn’t have phrased it the way I did (“Is the TRACON being evacuated?”), but still. I would have asked for a phone number, but things were so screwed up on their end I wasn’t sure whose number to ask for. I was basically “lost com” while talking to ATC via a functioning radio.

Eventually I got in touch with the proper Socal controller, who yelled at me for not being on the frequency sooner.

Now I try not to fly angry, so I forced myself to let it go. But in retrospect, that might not have been the best thing to do. Something was very wrong down in San Diego, and I could have forced someone there to deal with it. Imagine if this had been a freshly minted IFR pilot on his first flight in the system. Or someone who wasn’t familiar enough with the area to know that they should be talking to Socal on 127.2, not Los Angeles Center.

It sounds like I’m really down on ATC, but I do realize they have their own challenges. Socal is the busiest TRACON in the world. As I noted, personnel shortages are a big problem for them right now due to high numbers of retirements, and it’s clear there are a lot of trainees working the scopes these days.

I’m not sure the towers are any better. A friend works as a tower controller at LAX, and said the quality of the new people working the cab there is “scary”.

This experience has reinforced something I teach all my students: trust but verify. Because regardless of whether you’re flying under visual or instrument flight rules, when all is said and done, the only person you can count on up there is yourself. So expect the unexpected and don’t let a controller bully you. If something smells bad, question it. Trust me, you’ll be doing yourself — and ATC — a favor.

From what I can see, it’s going to get worse before it gets better. If you want a controller’s perspective on this, I recommend Get the Flick, a blog written by a recently retired controller and safety representative from Atlanta ARTCC.

6 Comments

Ron, September 17th 2007 | Tags: , ,
Posted in Aviation, IFR

Charts: Are They Required?

If I had a “frequently asked questions” list for glass panels, the first question on the list would probably be: “is it legal to fly with electronic charts alone (ie. no paper on board)?”. Without exception, every person I’ve flown with in an Entegra or G1000 equipped aircraft has made this inquiry.

My response has always been that while it’s not a wise idea to fly without paper since an electrical component failure could render your whole charting system inoperative, from a legal standpoint, electronic charts are acceptable as a substitute. Get caught above the stratus without your approach plates? If you have the electronic charts, go ahead and do the approach.

In fact, as far as I know there is no legal requirement to carry charts whatsoever. This applies to VFR and IFR under Part 91. And from a practical standpoint, it doesn’t make sense that there would be. There are aircraft out there — my Pitts S-2B is one of them — which literally don’t have any room for a chart. No room to unfold it, store it, keep it secure during hard aerobatics, etc. Sure, we use one during cross-country operations, but for acro flights? Who really has a chart readily accessible to the pilot in that scenario?

If there is an FAA regulation, case law, regional counsel legal opinion, advisory circular, directive, or other binding document which indicates otherwise, I’m not aware of it.

The only exception I can think of is on the Los Angeles terminal area chart on the Special Flight Rules panel which states “The following rules shall be adhered to while utilizing the Los Angeles Special Flight Rules Area:” and below that one of the requirements is “The pilot shall have a current Terminal Area Chart in the aircraft”.

Los Angeles terminal area chart excerpt

Beyond that, I just don’t see any regulation requiring charts. The closest thing would be 14 CFR 91.103:

Sec. 91.103 – Preflight action.

Each pilot in command shall, before beginning a flight, become familiar with all available information concerning that flight. This information must include –

(a) For a flight under IFR or a flight not in the vicinity of an airport, weather reports and forecasts, fuel requirements, alternatives available if the planned flight cannot be completed, and any known traffic delays of which the pilot in command has been advised by ATC;

(b) For any flight, runway lengths at airports of intended use, and the following takeoff and landing distance information

Anyway, I bring this up now because the FAA has issued Advisory Circular 91-78, Use of Class 1 or Class 2 Electronic Flight Bag (EFB), which basically confirms my thoughts on the matter. In summary, electronic charts are acceptable legal substitutes for paper charts, but carrying paper backup is recommended.

In other words, common sense. Which, when the government is involved, isn’t necessarily all that common.

The phrase “electronic flight bag” is probably not part of your lexicon, but it refers to a wide variety of panel mount and handheld electronic navigators. The Advisory Circular covers everything from the G1000 to a lowly black-and-while portable GPS and is, I believe, the first time the FAA has granted implicit admission of “non-IFR” receivers to the cockpit.

As always, the ultimate responsibility for ensuring receipt of the latest and most currently available information lies with the pilot. That much remains the same. But it’s refreshing to see that the FAA doesn’t care how you get the data as long as you get it.

Now the that door is open, I would love to see a parallel Circular to make sites like Weathermeister legal for official FAA weather briefings. Lord knows the data is infinitely cleaner and easier to interpret when viewed in such a manner. Alas, one step at a time…

3 Comments

Ron, July 26th 2007 | Tags: , , ,
Posted in IFR, Law

GPS Approach Hell

A while back, I made a casual suggestion John at Aviation Mentor.  He often writes about instrument flying in “glass panel” aircraft, something that is near and dear to my heart since this is one of my specialties at work.

I’d been noticing that more and more instrument approach procedures where being developed with weird minima.   There were columns for LNAV, LNAV/VNAV, RNP, LPV, and more.  Back in the late 90′s when I got my instrument rating, these acronyms weren’t even a gleam in the eye of their creator.  Now they’re all over the place, and CFIIs have to ensure their students know what these things mean.

I’ll let John take it from there.  Read his article and tell me it doesn’t sound confusing.  LNAV/+V?  C’mon people.  The FAA and equipment manufacturers can’t even agree on whether or not an LPV approach is “precision” or “non-precision”.

I’m glad I suggested this as a topic. One observation I have on the whole LNAV/VNAV thing is that in the past, when new approach capabilities were introduced to the IFR world, the equipment was usually in place at or before the time when the approaches starting appearing.  For some reason, it’s backwards this time.  There are a ton of RNAV approaches with VNAV glideslopes depicted on the plate, yet as far as I know, very few — if any — aircraft are yet certified to fly them.

Since the approaches have to be tested before they’re approved for the general public, I wonder if the FAA is the only one with the capability to fly these things. John indicates that he hasn’t flown any VNAV capable equipment yet.  I haven’t either, nor do I know anyone who has done so in the soup.  Between the two of us, we’re operating in the largest metropolitan areas in the state of California.

I completely agree with his concerns about the way this capability is being integrated into our cockpits.  The terminology is confusing, and it’s a terrible idea to have a pilot approaching a final approach fix without an idea of whether he’ll be shooting a precision or non-precision approach.

If the GPS receiver decides it doesn’t have the required geometry for a glideslope approach, the downgrade is annunicated at the worst possible moment.  There is no more likely time for a pilot to miss a flashing message light than when he’s about to pass the final approach fix.  ATC is providing final vectors, issuing an approach clearance, approach mode should be armed/arming, the pilot is running the “T”s and the Before Landing checklist.

I’ve always had a suspicion that these things were developed and tested in a perfect-world environment, something that those of us in busy airspace never see.  People who can afford a $65,000 glass panel are not aviating in the middle of nowhere, they’re flying in busy metropolitan areas and mixing it up with large jets and controllers who vector them as close as possible to the final approach fix.

The lack of a glideslope is not enough of an indicator; glideslopes fail for more than one reason.  Is it a software bug?  Did we load the wrong approach?  Or fail to activate it? Is there a hardware problem?  A RAIM alert?  This is not a good place for head-down time and button pushing.  These things should be designed to minimize that, not maximize it.

It seems to me it might be better to make critical annunciations more obvious to the pilot.  A tiny flashing “message” in the lower corner of nearly four square feet of computer screens is not sufficient.  My students miss these annunications all the time.  In fact, they actually learn to ignore them because most of the annunciations are nuisance alerts.  Airspace, schedulers, etc.

Pilots need to preconfigure the avionics suite so messages are minimized.  That means understanding the auxillary and setup pages.  We also need better education on GPS approaches.  If you fly a TSO-129 GPS equipped aircraft, you own it to yourself to read AIM 1-1-19, 1-2, 5-4-5(d), and other related sections of the Aeronautical Information Manual

A logical system for integrating new approach technologies without just throwing new acronyms and minima onto hundreds of approach plates would go a long way toward preparing pilots before the approaches were out there.  From my experience, it’s easy enough for a pilot to inadvertently select the wrong minimums without adding all these new ones to the mix.

One look at an RNP approach (like the one above, from Palm Springs) should be enough to convince anyone of the capability GPS can provide.  But those who don’t have an airline training department and budget behind them must proceed with caution, lest the road to GPS nirvana turn into GPS hell.

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Ron, December 4th 2006 | Posted in Aviation, GPS, IFR



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